Secrets or Blood
by guineamania
Summary: SpyAU Written for Darci The Thespian! Agent R and Agent E are the two much successful agents in the whole agency but their relationship with each other puts them at risk when R is captured. Will they both come out alive and with their relationship intact?
1. Chapter 1

**This for Darci The Thespian – you asked for a Modern AU e/R fic, even though this sorta thing probably wasn't what you were thinking of … hope you like**

**This story is inspired by an idea I came up with when reading ****Identity by DanielleHackedThisShitt****! Read it, it is pretty good! Plus an idea from Let's Play A Game by starr101, amazing White Collar fanfiction but that comes later**

**Just as an extra note: Agent R is Grantaire, Agent E is Enjolras**

**Secrets or Blood**

**Chapter 1**

Agent R slowly woke up. He blinked away the last remnants of sleep but he could tell that he wasn't in his bed at home, like he should be. Pain roared in his shoulder if he even moved a hairsbreadth; his head pounded like a hundred bass drums. He blinked again but no sight returned; he was blindfolded securely. He could tell a massive hook was piercing through his shoulder, hanging him from the ceiling so his feet were nowhere near the floor. His mouth was securely gagged with a ball of something weighing heavily in his mouth and a secure strip of duct tape strapped over his mouth sealing it. Desperately Grantaire tried to remember when had happened before; he must have been on a mission. That was the only plausible explanation. Suddenly it all came flooding back in a torrent of memories.

"_Agent R and Agent E, retrieve the file then get out!" their boss shouted down the coms._

"_Over," Agent E replied quietly and nodded to Agent R. They prowled the corridors looking for the highlighted room on their displays. They were the best in the business and remained undetected as the moved methodically through the corridors. _

"_I think it's down here," R muttered and set off his own way._

"_R, it's down here," E argued but the other agent had already disappeared round the corner. R couldn't see the door but this had to be where it was; there was no doubt. He was about to call through his coms to E when gunshots echoed in the metal walls. R rolled to the ground and was about to dart for cover when he was stopped in his tracks. Two large men grabbed him from behind and despite his frantic struggles; they had him pinned to the wall within seconds. R saw E's head bob up from behind a block. "Get out of here now," R murmured into his coms. _

"_I will never leave you," E grumbled back. _

"_Get help E!" he shouted as his mask was pulled off. His headset was crushed on the floor before he could hear the reply. Thankfully E ran out and no bullets hit his retreating figure._

_R was thoroughly frisked and his weapons and coms were all shoved in a bag and left on the floor with his mask. He was stripped until he was only wearing his boxers. He heard his capturers murmuring that tracking devices could be embedded anywhere in his clothes; they were being exceedingly thorough and none of R's frantic strikes, wavered them at all. They even knocked his camera contact lenses out; he hoped they did not know about the tracking chip implanted in his arm. They knew about the tracking chip in his arm and set to extracting it from his muscle. The pain was excruciating but his training stopped him from crying out at the piercing pain. He was on the verge of unconsciousness as they used zip ties to ties his arms together behind his back and to strap his feet together. The plastic bit into his wrists and ankles but the men were still not taking any unnecessary risks. They duct tapes tightly round the tip ties so there was no getting them off at all. They then proceeded with surprising efficiency to strap his arms to his sides and his legs together in two places. He knew these men must have been warned about his unparalleled ability to escape from bonds and prepared for him accordingly. _

_A bundle of weighted cloth was pressed into his mouth and before he could spit it out again two strips of duct tape sealed his mouth shut. R proceeded with his struggles with a renewed vigour but he could not find any way out of this perilous situation. He knew what must be coming next but could not break free as they tied a leather strip over his brown eyes and duct taped it so there was no seeing out. He felt vulnerable, an attack could come from anywhere and he was completely immobile and blind. R hated being vulnerable. One of the men, he had no way of telling which, lifted him onto his shoulder. These men were like rocks, no matter how much he kicked or head-butted them, they never moved at all. He just prayed that E had got away as he was thrown into the boot of a car. He felt a needle prick the side of his neck and the sedative hit._


	2. Chapter 2

_**20/5/13**_

**Thanks for the support this has gained so far! Glad you enjoy!**

TotaltotheMax – Thank I am so glad you have enjoyed it so far!

Almost an Actress – Hope you like this chapter sweetie

EmmaLaird – THERE IS MORE! Hehe

Darci the Thespian – Thanks! I had the idea and needed an excuse for my beta to let me write it ;)

**Chapter 2**

The steel door thumped open, jolting Grantaire out of his memories. "Agent R, pleasure to meet you at last," a voice chuckled from in front of him. He held in an instinctive flinch at the sudden malicious voice. "We've been looking for you and your partner for a long time. How nice of you to drop into our facility," she giggled with hidden spite at him. The blindfold was untied and ripped off his face. The gag was soon to follow and this time, he could not supress a tiny wince at the tape being torn off his skin. As soon as his mouth was free once again, the ball of cloth and lead that had been weighing down his tongue was thumping onto the floor at the woman's feet.

"Nice to meet you too," Grantaire replied, trying to remain in control of a very bad situation.

"Oh the pleasure is all mine," she chuckled, slowly running her finger down the curves of his cheek. Grantaire couldn't resist flinching away from the action; causing a jerk of pain to stab through his shoulder. "Careful with that," she smiled, pulling on the hook slightly. The pain roared as the muscles tore apart and blood poured down his body, dripping onto the floor. He let out a small cry of pain which just caused his captor to smirk even more.

"Tell me about Agent E," she insisted but Grantaire just shook his head.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, pulling an exaggerated confused expression. The woman sighed and Grantaire took his first proper look at his captor. She was certainly tall; she was able to stand face to face with him even with his feet not able to reach the floor. Although he had a suspicion that the five inch heels she was parading around in helped with that aspect. Apart from that she was pretty normal; he would certainly be able to recognise her on the street though. In her little black pencil skirt on white tight fitting shirt; basically she looked like a nice business woman. But nice business women don't have secret agents hanging from the ceiling in a basement.

"Because I can have you put through a lot of pain just for one little piece of information. Just a name," she stated pacing in front of him.

"Brian," he stated with a smile and the woman stopped pacing.

"Is that Agent E's name?" she asked in mild shock and Grantaire burst out laughing.

"No it is just a name," he laughed, mimicking her words. "Brian is a perfectly nice name," he argued as his captor growled. A flying hand smacked him in the face and he bit his lip to stop the pain flooding out; his cheek stung and his shoulder roared once again.

"How would it feel to know your precious E is watching right now?" she asked with a little smile. She pointed to a camera in the corner of the room. Grantaire's face flinched for a moment as he looked to the camera. Enjolras could not see this. "You wouldn't want them to have to watch us extract the information," the woman taunted as she returned to pacing. She soon as she turned away, Grantaire returned his attention to the camera. "Hi 'Pollo, I'm okay," he mouthed with a smile before she turned around again.

"Boys!" the woman shouted. The two henchmen that had brought him there stepped behind her. She strode up the agent hanging in the centre of the room. "Make him speak, smash his pretty face up a bit as well," she grinned, pushing his brown curls behind his ear with a trace of affection. "Although it is a very handsome face you have there Agent R. Shame you keep it cover up all the time," she smiled. "Your girl must be very lucky," she added with a touch of venom. The woman picked up the wedding ring on a chain that she had left handing round his neck. "JE hearts NG … how sweet," she giggled. "I wonder which you are. Never say I am not merciful, I have let you keep your symbol of affection," she replied dropping the ring so it fell back against his neck. "Get to it," she ordered, patting Grantaire's cheek lightly before leaving. The bodyguards stepped forwards menacingly.

"Hello lads," Grantaire sighed but was silenced by an impressive right hook to the left cheek.

The woman wasn't lying when she said Enjolras was watching everything. The live feed was streamed straight to the conference room in their department of the CIA and all available agents were watching to help search for their mission agent. Agent E was on the front row. When it first clicked on, he could not hold in a chocked sob. But no one judged him; they were all shocked at what R was being put through. It was just those two were closer than any partnership they had ever had before. His partner was hung there lightly swinging with blood dripping from his limp form. It was if he was dead; he was so still. Tears pricked the back on Enjolras' eyes but thankfully he could still see Grantaire's shallow breathing, the only sign he was still with them. Enjolras was fixated on the slow rise and fall of his chest. A shadowy figure walked in the door and Grantaire jumped causing the hook to pull in his shoulder. Enjolras was in the clutches of a minor panic attack as the mysterious woman talked to Grantaire. He winced every time Grantaire did and chocked on a silent sob when she pulled on the hook.

He only snapped out of his paralysis when she pointed at the camera. He watched as Grantaire's face flinched for a moment as he looked to the camera, directly at them. "You wouldn't want them to have to watch us extract the information," the woman taunted as she returned to pacing. Enjolras was on the verge of hyperventilating as she turned away. Grantaire returned his attention to the camera. "Hi 'Pollo, I'm okay," he mouthed with a smile before she turned around again. Enjolras jumped up screaming.

"I need to find him!" he shouted trying to push out of the room. "He needs me, I need to save him!" he shouted punching any agent that tried to get him to calm down. Eventually with the help of four agents they managed to get him calm and sat down again.

"Boys!" the woman shouted. The two henchmen that had brought him there stepped behind her. She strode up the agent hanging in the centre of the room. "Make him speak, smash his pretty face up a bit as well," she grinned, pushing his brown curls behind his ear with a trace of affection that Enjolras noticed straight away.

"If she dares touch him I swear I will kill her," he hissed, penned into the chair so there was not a repeat incident.

"Although it is a very handsome face you have there Agent R. Shame you keep it cover up all the time," she smiled and Enjolras twitched in anger. "Your girl must be very lucky," she added with a touch of venom. The woman picked up the wedding ring on a chain that she had left handing round his neck. Enjolras' hand instantly shot to his neck and the identical ring lying against his chest. He didn't notice all the concerned eyes on him as he silently sobbed for his husband while gently playing it around his fingers. He sat there desperately wishing that the man wearing the other one was here besides him. At least the witch did not know how close her prisoner was to the man she was hunting for.

"JE hearts NG … how sweet," she giggled and Enjolras replied with a growl. "I wonder which you are. Never say I am not merciful, I have let you keep your symbol of affection," she replied dropping the ring so it fell back against his neck. "Get to it," she ordered, patting Grantaire's cheek lightly before leaving. The bodyguards stepped forwards menacingly. Enjolras tensed at their movements.

"Hello lads," Grantaire replied and Enjolras gasped at the right hook to his left cheek. Enjolras sobbed quietly as his other half was beaten and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


	3. Chapter 3

_**29/5/13**_

**Thanks for all the support and I am seriously surprised about how many people like this fic!**

Darci the Thespian – Thanks a lot, I just had to make them married, nice twist in our tale!

GavrocheDiedForYourSins – Good, good!

TotaltotheMax – So glad you noticed my hint! I did get the idea from someone else but I just have to put my own spin on it because I know what I want to happen!

K – Thanks, intense is what I do

Almost an Actress – Glad you liked, he needs plenty of hugs

lovinglolipop0402 – I will be glad to!

Its Obvious u guys – Hope this is quick enough for you! Thanks for your review!

EmmaLaird – I wasn't aiming for that … but I guess it does

**Chapter 3**

When Grantaire awoke it was not pleasant. He fell into unconsciousness only mid-way through his punishment the day before and the guards had not eased up at all. His left eye was swollen shut and Grantaire could feel the bruises swelling on his exposed skin. Breathing sent tremors throughout his body and broken ribs threatened to jut out of his skin. But he would never tell them about Enjolras; not even if his life hung by a thread … Which it may do before this is all over, but he was not scared. The worst pain was his shoulder; the muscles were torn and the hole the hook pierced through was growing bigger every movement he made. And obviously, the bigger it got the more pain it put him in; but that probably did not need mentioning. The door thumped open and the evil woman strode in once again.

"Morning Agent R, I assume you didn't have a nice night's rest," she sighed walking over to where he hung. Grantaire remained silent; he was unable to summon the energy for a witty retort. She lightly stroked his swollen eye with surprising gentleness. "I really don't want to have to hurt you R," she whispered in his ear as she circled round him. "I really like you, more than the other prisoners I have dealt with throughout the years," she smiled, brushing the hair away from his eyes.

Grantaire looked up as she touched his face. This time he properly looked at her; he didn't assume what his captor would look like. But she was certainly younger than he expected; she looked to be around early twenties, around his age. He tried to choke out the words that were lingering in his mind. He tried to tell this girl that she didn't need to do this and the CIA would be able to help her. But before the words could form on his tongue, the girl gently pressed his mouth shut and her finger rested over his lips. "No need to talk R," she smiled. "You get him down!" she shouted to one of the henchmen. Grantaire froze and panic rose in his chest. If they were getting him down then that meant they wanted to do something more than interrogate him; and that could never end well. He tried to struggle but the pain was overpowering and his limbs were not his own anymore. As soon as the hook was pulled out of his shoulder, Grantaire let out a cry of pain and collapsed forwards into the thug's arms. Blood poured down his shoulder; breathing became laboured. Every breath choked in his throat and he felt on the verge of hyperventilation. Everything was blanked out apart from the overpowering pain that tore through his body in a path of flame.

The girl bandaged up him shoulder; which was a good sign. She would not bother to stop him bleeding to death if they were going to kill him. That thought stayed planted in his mind to ward of the slowly approaching panic attack he could sense was coming. They wanted information, so they would need him alive. Dead he would be no use to them. The girl arrived again this time holding a syringe. Grantaire started struggling in vain against his captors; he hated needles, they were the only thing that terrified the secret agent. Bad things happened when needles were involved, it was a proven fact. His feeble struggles did not stop the girl slowly injecting the suspicious liquid into his blood stream. Slowly he grew even weaker until even his frenzied eyes could not stay open. _What the hell did she just inject me with_? Grantaire thought before his body shut down once again.

Enjolras had refused to leave the conference room and spent the whole night curled up in the chair watching the live feed. The Techies had tried to trace the signal but it was bouncing around the world every ten minutes; he was currently in Venezuela. Enjolras watched the whole beating, unable to wrench his eyes away from the large screen. His perfect porcelain cheeks were marred by tear tracks running down to his chin. No one could get through to their chief agent; he was nothing without R. They weren't just a partnership; they were one person, without his other half Enjolras could not function. He was snapped out of his trance-like state by the thump of the door on the screen. He watched them get Grantaire down and began to panic when she returned with the needle. Grantaire hated needles. Once Grantaire was out cold, she addressed the camera. "Agent E, I assume you are watching this. If you want Agent R to remain safe then meet me us by the statue in Lincoln Park, D.C," she smiled as Grantaire was dragged from the cellar. "Meet me there at ten o'clock on Monday and do not bring any CIA lackeys with you; see you soon," she giggled and the feed cut off. Enjolras leapt to his feet without a second thought; he had two days before that meeting. He needed to stake out the park and work out tactics.

However his boss had other ideas. "E, sit now!" he shouted, blocking Enjolras' route to the door. "There is no way I am letting you go to that meeting," he stated once they had managed to wrestle Enjolras into a chair and had him pinned there.

"But if I don't go they will kill him!" Enjolras screamed with pure rage and fear resonating in his voice.

"And if you go then they will kill you," the chief replied trying to stay calm but Enjolras was in a frenzy.

"I will not let him die for me," he hissed and the chief sighed.

"I know, that is why we need to work out a plan for this meeting," his boss stated. His calm but stern attitude succeeded in calming Enjolras' mind slightly. They were right; he needed a plan to get them both out of this alive.

"So what were you thinking of?" Enjolras asked, finally calming down. The rest of the agents let out a sigh of relief and sat down round the table.


	4. Chapter 4

_**7/6/13**_

**This has a surprising amount of followers, I never thought it would be this popular. **

EmmaLaird – I hate needles too. Don't hug his shoulder as well, very painful it would be!

Thatbitofmystery – Sorry you'll have to leave it to Enj to save him. And there should be much more for this!

TotaltotheMax – I assure you, the reckless not listening to reason comes later ;) And the mystery substance is certainly not a good thing!

No account lol – I try to update every week ; it depends on how motivated I am and what other things I have going on! But this will be finished, I swear!

Asdfghhjkl – thanks a lot mon ami! I'll try not to let you die ;)

Almost an Actress – Thanks sweetie!

lovinglolipop0402 – The action is close now!

Darci the Thespian – Well, you will have to see what will happen. And the woman is not Eponine although I do see where you are coming from!

**Chapter 4**

Sunlight warmed Grantaire's cheek as it filtered through a small gap in the plush curtains. His eye creaked open but the other was swollen shut. Everything was woozy and the room seemed to spin but he could still make out some of the details. He was laid on a comfortable king sized bed with stunning white sheets. But yet he could not remember how he had got here; and he had a strange feeling that he should stay there. He nodded slowly; yes, he should stay here. Why leave? It was warm and comfortable, better than his usual quarters. Lingering in the back of his mind was a vague feeling of danger; it was the sort of instinctual feeling that agents were taught to follow as soon as they joined the academy. It was this feeling that made him try to take more notice of his surroundings. It was then he noticed the fog. A fog was clouded round his mind and some had filtered into his vision. Parts of the room were blurred and when he moved, and the room itself moved violently. Another reason to stay in this bed. But the sense of danger was growing with every passing second.

Grantaire couldn't ignore the danger sense; so he blinked away the fog and clumsily got to his feet. The room rocked like a ship on a stormy sea but he was determined to prevail. Eventually, keeping his hand on the wall as he walked, Grantaire made it to the door. His injured shoulder hung painfully and limply at his side. He turned slowly to look at the slowly healing hole the hook had left. His CIA issued R tattoo was distorted by the scar tissue. It sent agony up his neck every step he made; but he carried on moving. He could not make his hand reach for the doorknob through the pain and delirium. The harder he tried to make it move, the more his resolve faltered. Why was he trying to get out of this nice room? There was no point going; where would he go anyway? He nodded to himself, which just made the room shake even more. The door thumped open sending shockwaves through his pounding skull.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing up?" the woman chuckled, lightly touching Grantaire's shoulder. "R, you should be back in bed," she ordered. Grantaire nodded, she was right. He should be back in bed; he couldn't even remember why he had got out of bed in the first place. The niggling sense of danger in the back of his head had been vanquished as he lay back down in the bed, looking up at the woman.

"Now I have a few questions to ask you R, do you feel up to it?" she asked softly, almost affectionately. But it was at this question, the haze began to clear and he could use his mind once more. Grantaire knew what it was; Scopolamine, the mind control drug. It was used to make the person so mind-numb that they obeyed every command issued towards them. Grantaire shook his head, effortlessly rolling off the now blasphemous bed that had tricked his mind. His arm throbbed and shot pain throughout his body but he continued to try and get away. "Hold him steady! It's wearing off!" she growled as the two guards pulled a desperately struggling Grantaire to his feet. He cried out in pain from his arm but he had to keep fighting on.

"Scopolamine is a coward's drug!" Grantaire hissed and spat at her feet. "It is for the scum who cannot get people to do what they want the proper way," he added as he was pushed to his knees in front of her.

"I don't want to hurt you baby," she replied, kneeling and stroking his face softly. Grantaire recoiled away with venom oozing out of him and hate pooled in his eyes.

"Don't call me that!" he snarled as they held his head up exposing his neck.

"Soon you'll do whatever I ask you to," she chuckled and Grantaire tensed. The woman flicked the air bubbles out of the syringe as Grantaire began struggling and kicking once again despite the pain it caused. "Now stay still darling," she chuckled as the syringe was firmly stabbed into Grantaire's exposed neck.

Enjolras sat in the park. He was waiting at the meeting point for Grantaire's captor to arrive. He rubbed his sore arm absentmindedly. The agency had imbedded another chip so he could be tracked once they took him. Of course they were going to take him, which was part of the plan. They would take him to where they were keeping Grantaire then the CIA would burst in and get them out. But the presence of a sensible plan did not stop his leg anxiously trembling. On the chime of ten was when he saw the obviously armed men walk across the square. Enjolras slowly stood up to face them. "Are you E?" one of them whispered with a growl. Enjolras slowly nodded. "Give us proof," he stated as they both stepped forwards. Enjolras pulled down the collar of his shirt to show the front of his right shoulder. A black swirled E tattoo stood out; the edges were beginning to fade after many years. It could not have been faked. "You will come with us or else you will never see R again," the head thug murmured as not to attract attention.

"Give me proof he is alive," Enjolras ordered, standing firm in front of danger. Both men glared at him but conceded, passing Enjolras a phone. He stared at the screen and couldn't help letting out a gasp of relief. It was a video feed; Grantaire was fast asleep in a king sized bed filled most of the shot. He was certainly worse for wear but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest put Enjolras' mind more at ease. The thugs took the phone back and Enjolras walked obediently with them to a typical black van.

He was shoved in the back with brute force even though he did not protest at all. His head thumped against the wall and the world spun. Then the thugs practically pounced upon him. Within moments, Enjolras was gagged, blindfolded and chained to a hook on the side of the van. The engine roared and the van bumped into action. Enjolras smiled on the inside despite this perilous situation, because he was on his way to see his love again.

The drugs knocked him out straight away and it was around an hour before he awoke again. This time he was fully in the drug's manipulative grasp. "Now, R. I need you to answer some questions for me," she smiled sweetly. Grantaire nodded, that sounded easy. Just a few innocent questions, what could be wrong with that? "What is your name?" the woman asked bluntly and Grantaire chuckled. "What so funny?" she asked, looking incredibly confused.

"That's an easy question," he smiled. The drug had rendered his mind complacent and delirious but yet he could answer any questions or complete any task efficiently. The woman chuckled; pleased the drug was working this time.

"Nicolas Enjolras-Grantaire," Grantaire smiled, just as if he was introducing himself to an average person.

"And what is Agent E's name?" she asked next with a malevolent grin spreading across her flushed cheeks.

"Julien Enjolras-Grantaire," he answered; unaware of the ammunition he was giving their enemies willingly.

"You're married," she mumbled with her eyes lighting up once again. This was pure gold to use once they had E in their grasp. He would surely comply if the love of his life was in danger.

"Happily married for three years now," he added with a grin.

"Wonderful!" she giggled, jumping from her seat. This just got better by the second. Plans spawned in her mind of what she could do to them both.


	5. Chapter 5

_**18/6/13**_

**This is ending up a lot better received than I thought it would … and the plot I wrote has now gone out of the window! Who knows what will happen.**

EmmaLaird – Hehe, it isn't creepy to think so … I agree. And you can make her into imaginary shoes!

No account lol – Aww thanks, I am so happy you liked it!

GavrocheDiedForYourSins – I can assure you she isn't Cosette, she is my own creation alright!

Twitchtail– Get used to the cliffhangers … I love them ;)

Darci the Thespian – Thank you and evil is the intention muhahahahaha

Almost an Actress – Thanks sweetheart! Glad my plan to make you feel all the emotions is working

TotaltotheMax – I AM THE SAME … god he just is Mike now! … I need to stop seeing him like that!

Kimco – YAY account!

Thatbitofmystery – I will have to inform my beta that her ideas are too predictable … you may have guessed correctly …

Its Obvious u guys – Sozzy …

**My Exams are over now! I AM FREE! So updates should be quicker ;)**

**Chapter 5**

The van juddered to a halt and Enjolras thumped forwards. His shoulders groaned and jarred from the impact and he was dying to be able to move again. He needed to see his Grantaire; he needed him. Enjolras didn't fight as he was untied and dragged forwards out of the van and pushed inside somewhere. He stumbled slightly down a couple of stairs, but luckily remained upright. The blindfold was torn off viciously and light blinded him as he was coerced into a chair. His eyes were screwed shut until the deathly glare disappeared. He felt thick straps being tightened and crushing his chest. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. He could just see Grantaire's chip coated in blood as it lay on the floor of that corridor. But it was too late now. Within seconds, the only thing Enjolras could move was his head and he could finally look around.

Enjolras was sat in a damp and mouldy cellar; the walls were thick grey stone and he could see no weak points, unfortunately. An old TV monitor sat on a trolley in front of him with its screen hissing and whirring in his direction. As he turned around to look as far behind him as he could, Enjolras' heart stopped. A blood coated hook hung from the ceiling, swinging slightly in the wind. He saw flashes of his spouse swinging in the air with only a flicker of life left in his body. The red liquid was splattered all over the wall like red paint on a canvas. There was no doubt whose blood it was, bile rose in Enjolras' throat but he swallowed down the moment of weakness. He had to stay strong if they were ever going to get Grantaire back. And they had to get Grantaire back. The door thumped open and a woman walked in. She was tall with long dirty blonde hair curling at her shoulders and a malicious smile spoiling her perfect features. "Ahh Agent E … or should I call you Julien?" she chuckled and Enjolras' heart stopped once again; this really must be bad for his health.

"How do you know that?" he snarled struggling against the bonds.

"Your pretty little boyfriend told me," she giggled with a wink at the shock on Enjolras' face. She strode over and loomed over him; her spindly fingers pulled the ring on a chain so it was resting on top of his jacket. "You're a lucky boy to have such a pretty husband," she stated with a pout as she circled him.

"I need to see him!" Enjolras exclaimed frantically. That was all that mattered; his Nicolas. The woman nodded to the thug and he switched on the TV to show Grantaire sat cross legged on the large white bed he was asleep on before, eating a bowl of ice-cream while watching a large TV screen. Enjolras' heart twisted; he was so glad that he could see Grantaire, but that was not his little angel. Grantaire was different; there was something wrong with him. "What have you done to him?" Enjolras screamed as he wrestled against the too tight bonds; he needed to strangle his captor.

"I just gave him a little medication," she smiled, failing to look innocent. "To make him incredibly complacent," she added with a wink. Enjolras froze; she was controlling him, tears swelled in his eyes. "But I need more information from you," she continued, seemingly oblivious to her prisoner's emotional vulnerability.

"And what if I refuse?" he snapped at the hideous woman.

"Then I will hurt your little Nicolas," she replied with an emotionless shrug as the thug changed channels on the TV.

Now it showed Grantaire face on and he smiled and waved at the camera. "Hey 'Pollo," he giggled, still eating the ice-cream. Enjolras was secretly horrified but he needed to stay strong for Grantaire; he could not worry the drugged up man.

"Hey 'Taire, you hang in there alright?" Enjolras fake smiled at the overly happy spy. Grantaire nodded with his eyes wide and his pupils grew.

"I missed you Enjy," he whispered and Enjolras' smile was slightly genuine.

"I'll see you soon _mon petit_," he promised and Grantaire nodded.

"Awww," the lady giggled to Enjolras' side. "So will you answer my questions Monsieur E?" she asked and Enjolras shook his head solemnly. "Stay still Nicolas," she giggled and Grantaire nodded. Slowly a gleaming silver gun barrel was pressed to the side of his head. Enjolras choked on his fear but Grantaire continued to sit perfectly still with that bemused smile still planted on his face. Tears streamed silently down Enjolras' flushed cheeks at the threat to his love. Grantaire looked panicked at him and slowly edged forwards to the screen.

"Don't cry Apollo, I'll see you soon. You need to come visit, it has a great view of the river and is a really big penthouse," he grinned at the screen, as if he didn't notice the gun behind him. "Really, what side of the river? Will I need to take the ferry from our apartment?" he asked trying to find the prison he was in. Grantaire started giggling maniacally at the camera.

"Nicolas, don't speak sweetheart," the woman hissed from behind Enjolras and Grantaire nodded while he picked up him ice-cream again. The woman turned around to talk to the other thug and Grantaire smiled at Enjolras. _"It's the apartment above ours!"_he mouthed with a grin and Enjolras' heart raced with joy. He knew where Grantaire was; now the FBI just had to rescue him, and quickly. "Your friends are coming Monsieur Julien," she sighed shaking her head. "That means I'll have to go get the information off your husband," she replied and Enjolras struggled with all his might.

"Don't touch him!" he screamed as the woman turned to the door.

"Oh dear Agent, that will be the least of your worries," she winked as the thugs stepped forwards with a whip and a branding iron.

The agents dived in the door at the sound of Enjolras' muffled cries. His battered and bloody body lay sprawled out on the floor with a hired brute pressing his foot onto already broken ribs. A gag was pressed into his mouth but the cries were still audible. "FBI, drop your weapons!" the leader screamed and the weapons clattered to the floor in horror. "Hands behind your head now!" he shouted as one of the thugs held a hot coal in some small tongs over the almost unconscious agent. The brute dropped it onto Enjolras and his cries echoed of the walls and powered the hearts of the SWAT team. A bullet shot straight through the pulsing heat of the abusing thug without a seconds pause. Within seconds the other thug was restrained and arrested but no one cared about him. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen and Enjolras was clinging onto a pain filled consciousness. Someone pulled the gag off carefully. "'Ferre?" Enjolras murmured deliriously. Combeferre, leader of the rescue team and Enjolras' best friend, pushed through the crowd of medics.

"I'm here _mon petit frère_," Combeferre whispered, all formalities and secrecy gone. Thankfully all of Combeferre's elites knew of the special relationship between the two sort-of brothers. They had grown up and passed through Quanico together.

"'Ferre, Nic … Nic i-is flat abo-ove mine," he whispered with his eyes twitching shut. Combeferre sighed in relief.

"I'll send my men," Combeferre smiled but Enjolras shook his head.

"Yo-you go, bring my, my Nic 'ome," Enjolras smiled, weakly raising his hand and poking Combeferre in the chest.

"I'll do you proud, now you better be alright when we get home," he chuckled softly and lightly kissed Enjolras' forehead. "J and P! Stay and look after my little brother. If anything happens to him, I will hold you two personally responsible!" Combeferre threatened as he moved the rest of his squad out. Joly, the medic, and Jean Prouvaire, one of the new recruits, nodded before kneeling next to Enjolras.

"He-he's too o-over protective," Enjolras chuckled with a wince of pain.

"I would still rather not get shot like the last agent who fouled you up," Joly chuckled as Jehan arrived back with his kit.

"Seriously?" Jehan exclaimed and Enjolras slowly nodded. Joly laughed as they lifted Enjolras onto a stretcher and carried him outside. They needed to patch him up before they took him to the hospital. He was in too much pain to travel.

"What happened?" Jehan asked trying to take Enjolras' mind of the immense pain that was everything.

"A nu-new agent was harassin' me about me and R, callin us faggots. So I hit 'im," Enjolras chuckled with a wince of pain as Joly tried to stop the bleeding from most of Enjolras' body. Jehan chuckled and Joly joined it.

"So of course the other agent hit back and wouldn't stop hitting him. Then C arrived," Joly stated with a smile.

"'E the big boss of the SWAT," Enjolras added with a wink.

"So without a word, the boss just shot the man in the shoulder of the arm he was using to hit E," Joly laughed and Jehan gawped.

"He don't like an-anyone messin' with 'is little brover," Enjolras chuckled, crying out from the pain.

"We need to put you in the ambulance now E, alright?" Joly asked and Enjolras slowly nodded as his eyes began to drift shut. In one swift movement Enjolras was in the waiting ambulance with Jehan and Joly on either side of him. As the engine was revved, Enjolras eyes drifted shut with a trace of a smile on his lips. Grantaire was coming home.


	6. Chapter 6

_**29/7/13**_

**I have returned from my holidays! :) So I will now have more internet and so will probably be updating more!**

**As I have said on some of my other stories: my aunt died last week. So because of that updates will be irregular and I am just writing when the mood strikes me**

**Also I am writing a novel! I am currently doing the first draft so it will take a while to do but if any of you wanna help me out and read over things, give me advice, e.t.c then PM me or put it in your review on here!**

**Chapter 6**

Combeferre darted up the stairs with his team hot on his heels. These men had come through everything with Combeferre and the two secret agents, and were almost as angry as Combeferre at what had happened to their family. Courfeyrac was Combeferre's second in command; they had met in Quinco and he instantly connected with Combeferre and Enjolras, becoming their best friend in the process of training. Bahorel was the military trained officer in their team; he was the one most likely to fight his way in and out of any situation the team was put in. In a way, he was the viciously protective brother to the whole team and had already claimed the woman who had done all this once Combeferre had finished with her...if she was still alive. Feuilly was one of the newest members to the team and Combeferre had taken him under his wing personally. He had been struggling through his training for SWAT but he was dedicated and passionate; Combeferre taught and tutored him and now he seemed to have life debt to his mentor. This did cover the ones Combeferre loved as well; he was furious about how Enjolras and Grantaire had been treated and would do something about it. Bossuet was next and he was Joly's partner; they were all a big family in this squad and Combeferre took care of them all like he would his real siblings. The final member was Eponine, a feisty girl Grantaire had brought with him when he was transferred to this squad. She was like his sister ever since he was young and reluctantly had turned down her chance to beat the living daylights out of his torturers. She was in charge of getting Grantaire out of there and making sure he was safe; a job she would have done anyway.

Bahorel kicked the door down and Combeferre stormed in with his gun raised. All protocol was abandoned; this was a vengeance mission. These people hurt Enjolras and they would pay through the nose. The rest of the team followed in their usual diamond formation. The whole room was cast in darkness and their lights were doing nothing to penetrate the shadow. Suddenly a floodlight flashed on and illuminated a certain spot on a raised podium in the room. Grantaire was locked in a metal box no bigger than the size of an average washing machine with a singular plastic window. He could sit in it but had to be hunched over slightly. Combeferre froze at the sight and Eponine growled. His hands were duct taped together behind his back and his feet taped together in front of him. Another strap sealed his mouth shut and terror shone through his eyes. Grantaire was incredibly claustrophobic, even going in a single shower terrified him. One mission he was locked in a cupboard under the stair with enough room to move around; even after that it took weeks for Enjolras to get him over it.

Another light sprung up in the corner and a phone rang. Combeferre cautiously walked towards it without taking his eyes off Grantaire. He picked it up and held it to his ear. "Agent C, how nice of you to join us," a female voice chuckled, it was Grantaire's captor. Combeferre opened his mouth to speak but was cut off before he got a word out. "Now you do not really have time to be arguing with me agent," she began and Combeferre instantly closed his mouth. "I am incredibly upset you have taken Agent E from me and have come to rescue R. I am long gone but have had to leave my prize behind. If I can't have the pretty boy then no one will," she snarled manically. "Starting now his little cage will begin to heat up. There is an unquenchable flame roaring underneath and so your only chance to save the boy is to get him out from the box. It will be a slow and painful death which he will be conscious all the way through. You get him out, you get to keep him. You don't, he dies. Have fun," she giggled and hung up.

Combeferre threw the phone across the room and it smashed against the wall. He could see the flames begin under the box but unfortunately, so could everyone else. "Boss? What's going on?" Feuilly questioned, incredibly concerned by the rising heat in the room.

"If we don't get Grantaire out of that box then he will burn alive," Combeferre stated bluntly. They did not have time for him to sugarcoat the situation and his team did not need mollycoddling. Eponine panicked and ran towards the box and her almost-brother. Thankfully Bahorel was thinking as quickly as she was and preempted her movements; he caught the small girl and pinned her still, no matter how much she struggled.

"How long have we got?" he asked, directing the question at anyone who could answer. Feuilly started hurriedly working it out as everyone emptied out their kit onto the floor. Bahorel had finally calmed Eponine down and she dove into helping out and added her kit to the pile. Combeferre glanced up to Grantaire and tried to silently reassure him; but the secret agent's eyes were screwed up and it was obvious he was trying to ward off a panic attack. His breath was laboured and his whole body trembled in pure terror.

"We've got about ten minutes and the backup will arrive in about quarter of an hour. We're on our own," Feuilly sighed morbidly but Combeferre suspected that would happen.  
"Feuilly go with Bossuet to the apartment downstairs and bring up anything that might help. I think they have a welding iron in their somewhere. Tear the place apart!" he insisted.  
"But boss we can't break into an apartment," Feuilly mumbled and was shocked with Combeferre threw him a key.  
"It is his apartment!" Combeferre shouted pointing to Grantaire. The two men instantly darted off as Eponine and Combeferre hurriedly made a suit out of Kevlar and leather to protect Combeferre from the worst of the flames. Of course he was going to go; he was head of this team and the man in trouble was his brother in law. Feuilly and Bossuet ran up the stairs with an assortment of weapons, a crowbar and a laser cutter. Combeferre pounced on them, grabbing the laser, crowbar and a knife. He was ready to go.

Joining the box to the sides of the pedestal was just an average metal pole; Combeferre stood on it and took a deep breath. He could feel the Kevlar he was stood on heat up but thankfully it held strong, protecting his feet. He took a deep breath once again and began to shuffle. He didn't have as much time as he would have liked to edge over; the flames were roaring around the box and he could hear Grantaire's cries of agony through the gag and plastic. Tears were streaming down his face but he was soon entirely lost from vision. Combeferre fought through the smoke with a makeshift gas mask. He couldn't see anything but he could feel the flames licking at his feet. The box loomed ahead so Combeferre hurried along the pole as fast as he could. Grantaire's screams got louder and louder as the pain rose and rose; Combeferre could only imagine the torment he was going through. Finally he reached it and pulled out the laser; if he could cut one side then he could use the crow bar to pull it off. It was the only way it was going to work. He could feel his feet start to burn and the flames grabbed his legs in their fiery grips. He heard the meal clunk and watched it fall into the flame filled depths. Combeferre could see the burns and skin peeling off Grantaire's body but had to carry on anyway. He gently pulled the burning man out of the wreckage of his cage and almost ran across the pole. His makeshift armour couldn't take much more of this and if he fell then they both died. His feet thumped against solid floor once again but the smoke was obscuring everything. His handmade gas mask fell from his mouth as he ran down the stairs. The blasphemous smoke flooded into his lungs and coughs racked the agent's whole body. Grantaire was still crying out, his whole body trembled and coughs shook his weak form.

Combeferre collapsed out the door, landing with Grantaire on top of him. The smoke plumed out the door but was battled by the fresh air. Combeferre let out a choked noise of joy when he neared the sirens approaching their location. He could feel hands helping him and Grantaire being lifted off his chest but now he was safe, Combeferre let go of his battle to stay awake and drifted into the welcoming darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

_**12/8/13**_

**This will be coming to a close soon but I am going to write a sequel ;) Would anyone be interested?**

**Chapter 7**

When Combeferre awoke, all was silent; he was laid in a pristine white hospital. His lungs felt free again and his body was blissfully cold. But his wellbeing was not the primary concern; he needed to see Enjolras and Grantaire, he needed to know that they were both alright before he could ever think of looking after himself. They were his brothers; he would die for them. It took a few minutes before he could sit up properly but his wounds, thankfully, did not look too severe and a few nights of rest should put him right. He was just standing up when a pretty little nurse hurried into his room. "Sir, you shouldn't be moving around," she insisted, skittering over but he just brushed her off.

"I need to see two other patients that are in custody of the FBI!" he insisted but she just fussed around him and pushed him into bed again.

"I have instructions not to let you leave this room until the doctor says you are fully fit," she insisted much to Combeferre's despair.

"I need to see the agents!" he shouted and pushed her away but stumbled himself.

"Calm down sweetheart," a familiar voice giggled from the doorway and Combeferre froze.

"Lark!" Combeferre exclaimed with a smile at the pretty blonde stood in the doorway.

Lark was Cosette's field name. Cosette was his base operative along with her fiancé Marius. Each squad needed a techie and a base agent that stayed in the office or the stake out van. They were the ones who monitored cameras and audio feeds before reporting directly to Combeferre. Plus she was the sweetest little thing you will ever meet. "I heard you were kicking up a little bit of a fuss and thought I might be able to help out," she chuckled, helping him back into bed.

"How are E and R?" he asked frantically as Cosette coerced him into bed.

"E is recovering nicely and it is looking like he will be allowed out of bed in a week or so. He is suffering from broken bones and a serious concussion but thankfully there was no internal damage done," she explained and Combeferre let out a strange noise that seemed to be a mangled combination of joy and relief. "But C…R is not in good shape," Cosette mumbled with tears in her eyes. Everyone loved Grantaire, he was the heart of the unit; he laughed, he partied and he enjoyed life as well as doing his job well. "He's in a coma and the extents of his injuries are further than anyone thought. It seems like he is stable but there will be a lot of scarring and until he wakes up, nobody knows if anything is paralysed," she explained and Combeferre stared at her in horror. It was all his fault; if he had just gotten Grantaire out faster then he might have been okay. Cosette snapped him out of his self-hatred with a soft stroke to his cheek. "You did all you could, don't blame yourself sweetie," Cosette soothed, and Combeferre did feel his heart calming. "Now you need to behave yourself for twelve more hours then they will discharge you," she chuckled, standing up. "And you can go see to your friends," Cosette smiled before she left.

If the hospital thought Combeferre was a trouble patient then they had never had the pleasure of meeting Enjolras. Cosette hesitantly pushed the door open to find his room full of doctors and nurses that had the pleasure of Enjolras screaming profanities as them every time he was forced back into bed. Cosette rolled her eyes and pushed through the crowd and stood by Enjolras' bed. "E, bed! Now!" she shouted and the room fell silent. Enjolras edged back into bed from the full power of Cosette's glare. "The rest of you, out!" she demanded. Cosette hated this part of the job; it was like dealing with a bunch of toddlers during temper tantrums. The nurses and doctors scuttled out, leaving the two agents alone. Enjolras was weak and pale but the fire still raged in his rolling blue eyes.

"I need to see R!" Enjolras exclaimed and his eyes pleaded with Cosette.

"Patience E. I have talked with the doctors and they say that in a day you can move into R's room and rest there. As long as you behave today," she insisted firmly and Enjolras nodded like a frantic bobble head.

"How is he?" Enjolras asked cautiously; all the doctors had refused to tell him anything about his husband and replied saying 'It is too early to tell' every time he asked, which was very often.

"It's not good," she sighed, there was no point lying to him now. It would just make it harder for him to bear later. Enjolras tensed and his shaking hands gripped the bed sheets in an iron fist. "He is in a coma as his wounds heal. Combeferre got to him just in time. He's going to be scarred for life and the doctors think that he may be paralyzed from the waist down," she stated softly and held Enjolras close as the tears started to stream down his bruised face. "It's all gonna be okay E," she whispered in his knotted blonde curls as he silently sobbed into her shirt.

The next day you could find the inseparable trio in Grantaire's room. The doctors had reluctantly pushed another cot into Grantaire's private room after a lecture from Combeferre about how keeping Enjolras and Grantaire apart would just cause more injury to Enjolras as he found ways to visit his husband. Enjolras was curled up on the mattress with his head resting on Combeferre's stomach. Combeferre was restlessly dozing off but he just couldn't sleep. The past week had finally hit home and was taking its toll on his already weary body. But his mind never stopped whirring; he knew that the sadist who did this would be back. _"If I can't have the pretty boy then no one will."_The statement kept rolling around in his mind. He knew it meant that she would kill Grantaire if he couldn't stay with her. But after hours and hours of only thinking about what had happened, an alternate meaning presented itself; she wanted him to be scarred and maybe disfigured in the hope that no one would love him if he wasn't as handsome and he would come to her for affection. Combeferre knew that wouldn't happen; Enjolras would love Grantaire no matter what.

Grantaire could see and hear the other two agents. It was like he was in an out of body experience; he was watching himself laid unconscious on the bed but more importantly he could see Enjolras. He hadn't seen Enjolras since this all began, when he was in control of his own mind that is. Even battered and bruised as he was currently, Enjolras was still beautiful. Grantaire just wanted to reach out and brush his mattered golden curls any from his marble face, but he was just a spirit. Every attempt at a touch, his hand passed through and he couldn't feel a thing. Grantaire had deliberately avoided looking at his own body but the comatose corpse caught his eye. His body looked frail and brittle, as if a gust of wind could blow him away. Burns covered the right side of his face in an angry red flame; he had heard the doctors say that it hadn't damaged his eyes or ears so all senses should be functioning. His chest was scarred and a couple of broken ribs jutted out but no internal organs pierced; another stroke of amazing luck. The only concerns he had heard were his shoulder and legs. Where the hook used to pierce through his shoulder had been strapped up and a metal rod inserted to support the broken bone and shredded muscle; it should heal so he would have full use once again. But he had heard the hushed tones, mumbled words, sympathetic looks; it was doubtful he would ever regain use of his legs. They had been broken too much and too long; the fire had burnt the skin and muscles. It would never repair. The doctors said there was hope; Grantaire was not an optimist, he was a realist.


	8. Epilogue

_**25/8/13**_

**This is the final chapter but … I am going to write a sequel to this! So I will probably get a few chapters in hand and get a fair way through before I post it up here put I will put a message at the end of this story to tell you.**

**P.S – I am now on FictonPress to put my novel attempt up. Search guineamania to find me! It would mean the world if people would help me improve it.**

**Epilogue**

It was about a month before Enjolras and Grantaire were released from the hospital. Combeferre had been allowed out much sooner and went back to work to clean up after the failed operation. It took a week for Grantaire to wake from his deep sleep and Enjolras could honestly say that was the best day of his life. All seemed to be well despite none of the three coming out unscarred. Combeferre had slight discolouration on his hands and the bases of his feet were tender but nothing serious. Enjolras had his arm in a pot and slight bruising on his chest but was personally happy they all had made it out of this disaster alive. Grantaire, however, was a different matter entirely. He had come out of this much worse for wear; his usually unruly brown hair was trimmed incredibly short to deal with the burns and the whole of the right side of his face was discoloured, the arm that he was hung from rested in a sling but fortunately he could move it easily. But that was not all; the incident had left him paralysed from the waist down. The physiotherapists said that eventually he may be able to walk once again but for now he was stuck in a wheelchair. Both men had been called back to the FBI headquarters as soon as they were discharged. They had nowhere to go anymore anyway. The FBI had deemed their apartment unsafe and moved all their belongings to a FBI storage warehouse for safe keeping.

Combeferre had kept the two injured agents in the loop as regards their captor. The woman had never been found but they had a name: Eliza Harper. She had committed minor crimes throughout the years so her face and voice were on file. Combeferre was head of the investigation, mostly because anyone who stood in his way should fear for their lives. When it came to his friends and family all protocol flew out the window. Enjolras and Grantaire were picked up round the back of the hospital in a dark car and it sped towards the building both men had spent most of their lives. Both were silent, still recovering mentally from their ordeal. Enjolras slowly stroked Grantaire's limp leg with his fingers with a tender affection. Grantaire softly smiled at him and took his hand in his own. "We'll be fine, Enjy," Grantaire mumbled as he traced circles on the back of his lover's hand.

"As long as we are together," Enjolras nodded. Grantaire leant over and laid his head on Enjolras' shoulder as they waited to arrive. What was said here would decide which road their life would take; they could never go back to being agents again. Their identities were revealed and Grantaire's injury would only leave him on deskwork anyway; that was no way to live.

The car pulled to a standstill and Enjolras was the first out. He unloaded Grantaire's collapsible wheelchair from the boot and set it at the now open door before the driver could even move to offer assistance. He knew that help from anyone else would make Grantaire feel ashamed; and he didn't trust his lover's wellbeing in the hands of anyone else anyway. He helped Grantaire swing himself into it using leverage on his arms and loitered next to the handles just in case Grantaire needed him to push. He had always been protective of Grantaire but before the incident, the other agent could look after himself; now he was weaker and would need more protection, but not too much protection. It was a fine line to walk on. Grantaire wheeled himself into the lift and sat next to Enjolras, who felt as nervous as he did the first time he rode up in the stainless steel box. Grantaire, despite his best efforts, sat there with his eyes screwed tightly shut and started subtly trembling. Enjolras massaged his lover's shoulder blade to reassure him that everything was well. Grantaire's shaking subsided at Enjolras' touch but his eyes still remained firmly closed in fear. As soon of the lift stopped and the doors were opened, Grantaire was flying out into the open space as fast as the wheelchair would allow it. Enjolras followed at a slightly more subdued pace, apologising to the people Grantaire had shoved out of the way in his hasty retreat. Grantaire finally slowed when he was at the doors to the meeting room and well away from the box of doom as he had now christened all lifts. Enjolras stood skill next to him and ruffled Grantaire's hair affectionately before pushing the door open to where their fate would be decided.

Strangely, the only person sat in the room was Combeferre. Enjolras had assumed it would be a massive group of all officials coming to interrogate them; it was a pleasant surprise. "Come, sit down," Combeferre waved them over and the trio gathered round the table. In front of Combeferre sat a singular file. "You have both been placed in witness protection," Combeferre stated in his usual blunt manner. "Eliza is still out there and if you carry on living how you are then she could find you," he added and both men nodded, they knew this was the most likely outcome. "In here is all you both need to know about your new identities. You are now Julien and Nicolas Sharp, a newlywed couple from New York. You will live in a remote village in the Yorkshire Dales, England. Julien, you are an ex NYPD detective and Nicolas, you were his partner. Nic, you were a volunteer fire fighter who was caught in a forest fire. Enjolras, you retired to look after Nic and you both moved. You will have to find your own jobs but for the first year the FBI will pay you both a hefty pension," Combeferre explained, obviously attempting to keep his own emotions in check. "I have argued your case and both me and Eponine will be able to visit as long as we are careful," he offered a weak smile and Enjolras hugged him tenderly, careful of their injuries.

"I'll miss you," Enjolras whispered.

"I'll miss you too," Combeferre sighed.

Grantaire was reading through the file on the plane. He was doing anything to distract himself from the fact he was in a flying metal tube. He was sat on the window seat, despite the hassle getting him there because the window meant he wasn't as trapped. Small comforts indeed. Enjolras was fast asleep on his shoulder but the blonde was still gripping onto his shirt as if Grantaire would be lost again if Enjolras wasn't holding onto him. The plane bumped to land and Enjolras woke up. It wasn't long before they were through luggage reclaim and border control with their new identities; Mr. and Mr. Sharp…that would take some getting used to. It was a three quarter of an hour drive to their new home in the shiny new FBI provided car. Enjolras stood outside their front door, Grantaire's hand in his own and smiled. It was a beautiful two bedroom bungalow with a massive garden, all part accessible by wheelchair; beautiful. "Welcome home," Enjolras sighed with a smile and pushed open the door to their new life.


End file.
